


Touch

by josephjonxs



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 13:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14190384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephjonxs/pseuds/josephjonxs
Summary: Racetrack Higgins never misses his weekly game of cards in Brooklyn, it's part of his routine. What is not part of his routine is Spot Conlon walking him back towards Brooklyn Bridge.





	Touch

It was Wednesday and Wednesdays were for card games in Brooklyn. So, like every Wednesday Racetrack Higgins made sure to sell his papes quick, so he had enough time to walk towards Brooklyn. He balanced his cigar between his lips when he made his way towards Brooklyn bridge, hands in his pockets. On his way he pasted by Albert, who was still selling. “Beat their asses for me!” the redhead called out to him. Race laughed before he promised to do his best.   
He bought a small piece of bread before he crossed the Brooklyn bridge, counting his money and shoving the money for his papes in his one pocket, the rest in his other. “Hey Racer!” The blonde boy looked up to the owner of the voice. Sniper, an eleven-year-old kid was waving at him from across the street, holding a newspaper in his hand. “Almost everyone is already at the docks!” He thanked the boy before making his way towards the docks. It was not common for newsies from other neighbourhoods to come in to Brooklyn like that, but no one seemed to mind when it came to Race, he always claimed it was just because he was more charming then other newsies. But most newsies claimed it was because Race managed to get on Spot Conlon’s good side.   
Nevertheless, Race made his way towards the dock, his cigar still unlit between his lips. He shoved his cigar behind his ear before he jumped down on the docks. “Hey Race,” Peter was the first one to greet him, the boy sat on one of the boxes, his cap half on his head. “‘Ey,” Race greeted him, removing his cap shortly to run his fingers through his hair. He soon found himself between the gang of Brooklyn Newsies. “Are ya ready to lose, Sniper?” Race grinned as he sat down on one of the boxes. His took the cigar from behind his ear, twirling it between his fingers. Sniper, a boy who was just slightly taller than him, gave him a cold look, before he started shuffling the cards. “Ya wish, Higgins,”   
“Is ya finally joining us for a game, Spot?” Race said as he saw the king of Brooklyn sitting on a bunch of boxes, towering over the rest of the crowd. Spot never joined the card game, Race did not know his reasons, did not really care, but still asked him every single Wednesday night to join them. Maybe it was to be able to beat him, so he could use it against him every time the king had that smug look when Race lost. Spot did not even answer him, just shrugged, leaning back on his improvised throne. Race gave himself a second to observe the boy, his dark hair was combed nicely, especially for a newsie. His one hand rested on the cane he always carried around, a bit too dramatic in Race’s eyes.   
It was a good day for Race, he won every round, doubling his days earnings, but still made sure the Brooklyn newsies wouldn’t lose too much money. He couldn’t help but notice how the king had his eyes on him the entire time, even more then normally. By the time Race decided it was time to call it a day, the sun had long gone down, most newsies had already gone off to the boarding house. “I’ll walk ya to the bridge,” Spot said when Race got off from the crate. “No need, I’s can find me way,” He shoved the coins in his pocket as he spoke. “It wasn’t a question,” Spot jumped off his throne, shoving his hands into his pockets as he started walking.   
“Really there’s no needs,” Race protested, but still followed the boy. He was almost a head higher than the king, a fact he always found funny but never mentioned, he had no interested in pissing him off. He was used to a Brooklyn newsie following him to the bridge, making sure he made it out of the neighbourhood safe, but never had Spot been the one to walk him down. They walked in silence, but it was clear that Spot had a reason why he was so keen on this. “Do ya ever not have that thing in ya mouth?” Spot asked when the bridge came in sight, referring to the cigar which had made its way back between Race’s lips. The boy removed it before he talked. “When I’s talk, or make out,” he grinned, keeping the cigar between his fingers. Spot’s eyebrow raised for a second. “Well ya talk a lot,”   
The boys came to a stop, just before the bridge. “Got a problem with that?” Race grinned, his blue eyes seemed to glimmer in the night. “Sometimes it’s better to shut up,” The king spoke, his accent heavy, his eyes were focused on the Manhattan newsie in front of him. “And why would I’s?” Race’s tone was playful, a grin on his lip as he knew he was pushing the boy.   
Race had expected the king to go on about why he should shut up more often, or just turn around and leave him like that. What he did not expect was Spot leaning towards him, pressing his lips on Race’s, burying one hand in his blonde curls. Not that Race didn’t mind, he never really expressed his feelings towards the king, he even pushed them away in the back corner of his mind, ignoring that flutter of his heart every time he saw Spot. But when their lips connected it all came rushing to the front place of his mind and heart. If he didn’t feel Spot’s arms holding him, he would’ve sworn he would pass out.  
It didn’t take him to long to return the kiss, wrapping his arms around the king. He had never felt this close to someone before, and by the time their lips parted both were gasping for air. “That’s why ya should shut up more often,” Spot grinned, stepping away from Race’s arms. “Good to know,” Race managed to say, his head still dizzy, hair a mess. “Ya should get goin’, don’t want Kelly to be mad I’s kept his boy so long,” with those words Spot disappeared into the night, leaving Race behind.


End file.
